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"Jasmine can handle herself just fine," I retort, my pride for her evident in my voice. "But if you continue to provoke us, I won't hesitate to take you down."
"Bring it on," he snarls, lunging at me once more.
As we clash, Jasmine continues to expertly dispatch Frank's men one by one, their bodies crumpling under her skilled hands. I feel a surge of admiration for her, and notice Frank looks worried too.
I watch in awe as Jasmine's fists fly, her movements fluid and precise. The way she takes down Frank's men with such skill and grace leaves me breathless. I've always known she was strong, but seeing her like this – fierce, unyielding, a force to be reckoned with – deepens my admiration for her.
"Watch out!" I shout, my voice barely audible over the commotion in the gallery. One of Frank's goons lunges at Jasmine from behind, his meaty fist aiming for her head. She doesn't see him coming, too focused on her current opponent.
In an instant, I'm at her side, deflecting the blow with a swift kick. My heart races as our combat styles sync perfectly, like two sides of the same coin. Together, we neutralize the threat, taking down the thug in a matter of seconds.
"Are you okay?" I ask Jasmine, concern lacing my voice. Sweat glistens on her brow, her chest heaving with each breath. Despite the chaos around us, I notice the fire in her eyes, the way her cheeks flush with exertion. She's never looked more beautiful to me.
"I'm fine," she replies breathlessly, her gaze locked onto mine. There's an intensity there that sends shivers down my spine. "Thanks for having my back."
"Always," I promise, unable to tear my eyes away from hers.
"Let's finish this," she says, determination etched on her face. I nod, knowing that together, we're an unstoppable force.
"Come on then," I say, smirking at what remains of Frank's crew. "Who's next?"
As we stand side by side, ready to take on whatever comes our way, I can't help but feel a deepening connection to Jasmine. We've faced adversaries together and emerged stronger than ever. And as much as I'm desperate to protect her, I know she's more than capable of holding her own.
"Let's do this," she whispers, her eyes never leaving mine.
"Let's," I agree, and our fists fly once more.
Frank, seeing the last of his men defeated, glares at Jasmine and me. His lip curls in disdain as he takes a step back, clearly reassessing the situation. "This is not worth it," he spits out, his eyes fixed on the painting.
"Fine," I say, my tone dripping with contempt. "It's over, then."
"Enjoy your spoils, Marchetti," Frank sneers. "But remember, you won this battle, not the war." With that, he turns and stalks away, leaving the gallery buzzing with whispers and stares.
"Are you alright?" I ask Jasmine, my concern genuine as I take in her disheveled state.
She nods, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, I am. Thanks to you."
"Let's get that painting," I suggest, leading her towards the artist who has been watching the entire scene unfold.
"Ah, Mr. Marchetti," the artist greets me, extending his hand for a shake. "Quite an impressive display."
"Thank you," I reply, shaking his hand firmly. "We'd like to purchase this piece."
"Of course," he says, beaming. "It would be an honor to have one of my works in your collection."
"Mr. Marchetti," the artist interrupts my thoughts, "Your performances tonight were extraordinary. As a token of my respect, I'd like to offer you and your lovely companion a free night at the St. Regis hotel. It's the least I can do to show my appreciation."
"Thank you," I answer, genuinely touched by his generosity. "We'll gladly accept your kind offer."
"Excellent," he says, handing me the keys to a suite. "Enjoy your evening."
"Thank you," Jasmine echoes, squeezing my hand.
As we leave the gallery, the painting securely in our possession, I contemplate how far we've come. The obstacles we encountered this evening have only strengthened our connection, and I am confident that we will confront whatever lies ahead... as one.
Chapter 19
Whispered Intimacies
